


Cachorrito

by nvaleintern (orphan_account)



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments (Movies), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore (not sexual), Come Swallowing, Kissing, Knotting, M/M, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vampire Sex, Vampires, Werewolf Sex, i just needed a werewolf/vampire one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-14 00:31:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9148780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/nvaleintern
Summary: It's hard to find control when you are in heat - and who knew vampires were kinky bastards into that sort of thing?Pure Raphael/Simon smut.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading my fic! Just a friendly reminder that you don't need an AO3 Account in order to leave Kudos or Comments on a fic you liked! Enjoy!
> 
> Warning: some people could interpret this instinct-driven sex as dubcon!! Simon does ask for consent, though. Still, better safe than sorry.

Warm rays shone through summer leaves. Birds chirped their usual songs, accompanied only by the sweet sound of flesh being ripped apart, as Simon's choir of slurps rang on.

Usually, Simon Lewis wasn't much of a hunter. _Usually,_ he was able to pace himself long enough to wait his turn. Luke never failed to provide his pack with just enough food to survive, and plenty more to stuff their faces with. Sometimes, if he felt like it he even brought in a whole deer for the pack to eat, not just bits and pieces. Simon never quite figured out _how_ he managed to do that but he also never asked, figuring that the image of Luke casually walking through Manhattan with a deer strapped across his back was more amusing than the actual truth.

That day Simon couldn't wait. Everything inside of him was boiling, making him jittery. His blood was burning up his veins from inside out. A constant hum spread through every fiber of his body, waking up cell after cell. All of his senses were honed on one feeling and one feeling alone: the primal need to feed. The _lust_ to consume.

It was unbearable. Everything was _annoying_ him. Voices, people, even Clary, god dammit, his stupid _clothes_ were a nuisance. As a last resort, he ran for miles, out of the city into a nearby forest. One of Luke's old hunting grounds, where he was sure nobody would come across him, except maybe an unlucky deer or two. Or in his case, three.

Simon was sucking at the flaps of meat hanging from his last kill. It was an older deer, he could taste it in the bone marrow, but he didn't care. Hot blood sprayed onto his already flushed face, sticking strands of dark hair to his forehead. Every piece of swallowed raw meat, usually enough to twist his stomach into a knot, felt ecstatic. With every bite he could feel his human self become less and less, stripped away just like he's doing it to the animal in front of him.

Physically, he had long stripped himself, down to nothing more but a pair of boxer briefs, the rest of his clothes stuffed away in some hole behind a tree for now, patiently waiting to be picked up when this is over. For some reason it all just felt off, scratching in all the wrong places, worse than the pullover Isabelle got him for Christmas.

Simon was worried, or at least the remaining chunk of rational thinking left inside of him was. Luke had warned him about full moons and the effect they have on young werewolves with next to no practice, but he never mentioned anything about hot flashes and an ever-present horniness. It was broad daylight yet Simon could double over from the excruciating pain that the primal need caused him. The itch from all the way down shook him up, waking other parts in the process, yet no matter how much Simon rubbed or rutted, getting off again and again, it only made it worse, his erection staying put (which made that whole deer encounter rather awkward for both animal and part-animal).

Feeling his mouth fill up with warm, coppery taste of blood was the closest thing Simon could find to relief, and before he knew it, day turned into night, the brisk, moonlight breeze doing nothing to Simon's overheated body.

At this point in the day, the need to feel, and preferably fuck, something was so excruciatingly strong, it nearly brought him to tears, as he dropped onto his back, leaves and grass crunching under his weight.

_What to do?,_ he wondered, looking up at the dark sky, hand stretched out into the empty space. If it weren't for the dark shimmer of blood, it would almost resemble a normal teenage boy's hand. Five fingers, five normal-looking nails. He balled his hand into a fist and splayed it open again, listening to his heart hammer in his chest, a quick staccato. _What to do?_

He could call Maya. She would probably be willing enough to help him get out of this predicament, if that's what you'd want to call it. And there'd always be Joshua, Simon figured. They made their advances on Simon during practice more than enough, and yes, there may or may not have been an evening where the two of them ended up crammed in the supply closet making out with each other. And yes, maybe said thing had happened more than once before.

Simon sighed. Thinking back to the two only made things worse, his erection throbbing, begging for some sweet release. He palmed it through his boxers, rubbing; a low, guttural groan escaped his lips as he shot another load, soaking his underwear. "Fuck," he cursed, fisting a patch of grass next to him. "Fucking- _fuck._ "

" _Aí,_ why so angry, _cachorrito?_ "

Simon didn't have to turn around to know it was Raphael. Even before he spoke, he could usually smell the other boy from a mile away, his weird mixture of incense, old books and the whiff of death creating his own personal Eau de Parfum, by Raphael Santiago.

Simon clenched his teeth, ripping the blades of grass from the ground, chunks of fresh soil coming out with it.

The werewolf never had much sympathy for Raphael. Understandably so, with the other boy trying to kill him and all that – but ever since he became a lycantrophe, it has gotten that much worse. Some sort of genetic instinct deciding about Simon's actions, over-writing his common sense. He was practically ready to jump Raphael on sight, and not in a good way.

"What do you want, Santiago?" He tried to stay calm, hide his erection by drawing up his knees, still sprawled out on the ground. Suddenly he became very conscious of how little he was wearing. And how vulnerable his position made him if a fight was indeed what this would end up in.

"Definitely not your sloppy seconds, _cachorrito._ " Raphael was standing over him now, in all his glory. Smiling a toothed smile, an upside-down image of a flipped grin. The boy wore a leather jacket, with a dark button-down and matching jeans in, who would have guessed it, black. If it weren't for his pale skin and sharp teeth, some could mistake him for a Nephilim, or worse, a scene kid.

"On your way to a MCR concert?"

"On your way to a Twilight audition?"

Simon bit his tongue to stop himself from chuckling. When did Raphael get so good at this? Only weeks ago all he could mutter back were some low-blow insults or he'd just simply dismiss Simon's jabs as just that, explaining that he has better things to do than waste his time doing research on boring pop-culture references. Apparently he changed his mind, though. Simon probably enjoyed Raphael pushing his buttons just a little too much. And he had really no time to finish that thought process because the vampire was crouching down, his face inching closer and closer towards Simon's own. Simon could hear a joint in Raphael's knee pop as he sat down.   
"What's that smell?" Raphael said, drawing in a sharp breath, followed by short, consecutive sniffles in Simon's direction.

Simon wanted to roll away, but his head was dangerously close to Raphael's crotch and face-to-groin contact needed to be avoided at all cost. On second thought, burying his face in-between Raphael's legs, pressed up against those thighs as he'd work on Raphael's zipper-

Simon swallowed, hard, trying to shake off the mental image. He drew up his legs to hide the raging boner, not that Raphael cared enough to notice, too busy smelling Simon.

"You're in heat," he said. It was a statement but Simon could swear he heard an ounce of fear in there somewhere. The expression painted on Raphael's face only confirmed it. "God damn, _cachorrito_ I know you hate Children of the Night as much as the next wolf but that is a low blow."

Raphael's words didn't make sense to Simon, a puzzle he couldn't quite put together. He flipped onto his stomach, managing to only graze the inside of Raphael's thigh with his head, though that alone was enough to make him wince. The cold, hard ground only felt like a ruthless punishment, entrapping his throbbing length.

Simon swore to himself he would not grind down, he would _not._ Not with Raphael watching him with his eyes drawn up, those brown eyes as sharp as Raphael's glinting teeth- Simon ground down, groaning loudly as the tip of his cock slipped out of his boxers against the damp grass.

Raphael just kept on looking at him, mouth opened slightly in disbelief or disgust, Simon wasn't sure.

"What the fuck are you still doing here, Raphael?," Simon asked, frustration and shame making him angry. His fingers were already centimeters deep inside the dirt, grounding the last shreds of Simon's consciousness.

"I-" Something heavy dropped onto the ground next to Simon, followed by the sweet sound of buttons being ripped open. "I can't cachorrito, if there's one thing vampires love even more than werewolves do, it's a wolf in heat, I-" Raphael plopped to the ground, kicking off his shoes, hands working on his belt buckle. "Fuck."

All of it confused the hell out of Simon but he didn't care because what he did understand was that Raphael wanted him, would take him any minute now and Simon _needed_ him. Santiago might be an asshole, but he's an asshole Simon is willing to use. "I fucking hate you," Simon growled, crawling up the grass, face inching closer to the now-naked Raphael. His clothes were somewhere next to the dead animal, Simon didn't pay much attention to them, mesmerized by what was in front of him. He wanted to touch, run his warm hands up Raphael's cold-as-ice thighs. "Do you know how much I fucking hate you?," Simon asked, licking his lips, his face now only inches away from Raphael's throbbing cock.

"Trust me cachorrito, I probably hate you more." The way Raphael rolled his _r_ made Simon's dick twitch. He just couldn't wait any longer.

Closing the gap between them, he lapped at Raphael's length. He had no plan and his focus was not to bring Raphael any pleasure or make him moan – both things that happened because they happened – all Simon wanted was something to touch, to suck and feel.

With hollowed cheeks he sank down Raphael's cock, bobbing his head up and down with his tongue stuck out to lick some more.

Raphael's fingers were hooks digging deeper into Simon's shoulders for support, holding him down.

The first time Raphael came, he was propped up on his elbows, head tipped back slightly, looking at the stars above them. He was panting, even though he didn't need to breathe.

Simon didn't swallow. Instead he sat up on his knees, body pressed close to Raphael's. Just when he was about to force Raphael's mouth open the vampire complied, sticking his tongue out to taste himself, swallowing the blob of white. "That was fucking disgusting cachorrito," he whispered, lip curled up slightly.

They kissed for a long time, rolling around in the grass. At one point Raphael had Simon pinned against the tree, biting down hard. Raphael's chest was solid marble, despite his lithe physique, and Simon had found himself lean into it, knowing he'd be held up. His knee was a constant against Raphael's groin, the boy's dick already getting ready for round two.

"You're hairier than a fucking werewolf," Simon mused, pulling at the black hairs sprouting from Raphael's chest. The anger and passion from before were seeping out of him.

"Just because you're gonna stay a little baby forever doesn't mean you have to insult me," Raphael snapped back, tugging at Simon's earlobe, the sloppy sounds of tongue against skin ringing through Simon's bones, making him moan. His dick was leaking by now, precum trails all the way down to the base.

"You want to knot me cachorrito?" Raphael's question was barely a whisper, and before Simon could ask what that word meant, Raphael exposed his hole to him – whatever knotting was, Simon wouldn't say no to _that._

"That's an all-you-can-eat-buffet I can get behind," Simon mocked, throwing away his boxers, spreading the pool of precum around a bit. Natural lube works best. Part of him considered eating Raphael out before they'd get to it but Raphael biting his bottom lip like that, legs drawing Simon in closer by the waist – he couldn't wait. Maybe next time- that is, if there will be a next time.

„You sure, bat-man?,“ Simon asked, even though he was already pressing inside, his body betraying his mind as he ruthlessly sunk himself into Raphael.

"Just get to it cachorrito," Raphael hissed. Simon didn't need to be told twice.

As he was pumping away, hips thrusting up, he first noticed how pretty Raphael was. Hate still loomed at the back of his mind, driving him to jerk his hips forward a little bit harder. But, yes, Raphael Santiago was beautiful in his own, vicious way. The sounds he was making as Simon pulled out a little bit too long for his liking, the way his sharp teeth pierced through Simon’s neck, feeding off of him. Each swallow dizzying him, making his dick twitch against Raphael's walls.

Until Simon felt his orgasm coming on, washing over him as he shot load after load, the cum leaking out onto the already-damp grass.

When Simon finally caught his breath, relieved to find the pressure of the whole day evaporate into thin air, he found himself unable to pull out. Raphael must have noticed his incredulous look, because he was laughing, closing Simon’s mouth by cradling his chin. „Oh, cachorrito, they really haven’t taught you a thing, have they?“

"Wha-"

Raphael kissed Simon, or as close as he got to kissing Simon. There was only so much he could do by propping himself up on his elbows with a grown-ass guy laying on top of him.

"You've knotted. We're bonding. You can't leave just yet.“ Raphael was smiling. And it wasn't the devilish smirk from before. It looked like a genuine smile.

"You're really into this?"

"I told you, we," and by that he meant the Children of The Night, "love to feel a werewolves knot. It just wakes something up. I’m not sure how to explain it cachorrito." For the first time since forever Simon didn’t hate the way the last word came out of Raphael’s mouth.

Whatever was happening before, they could blame on instinct, an urge, but this felt intimate. Real. And if felt- good?

A storm of emotions was raging inside of Simon's head but he decided to put them into a neat box he’d sort through later, instead trying to make the most out of the situation. Slowly, he lowered himself onto Raphael, his dick still oversensitive to any movement or touch.

"So, now that we’re stuck here, what do you want to do."

There was a flicker of white and tongue, a curl of lip. "I have a thing or two in mind, cachorrito. A thing or two…"

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so excited for season 2, even though I didn't like the show that much. Let's hope the writers weren't just baiting us with the Saphael tweets. (I do have more Saphael planned, just in case y'all want to know, too.)


End file.
